


Their Eyes

by idontknowwhyimawake



Series: Their Eyes [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Explicit Language, Gen, Hurt Jason Todd, Hurt No Comfort, Suicide Attempt, but it’s Jason so you should really expect that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26843557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontknowwhyimawake/pseuds/idontknowwhyimawake
Summary: In the end, Jason could still remember their eyes.He was never supposed to happen. He was an accident that somehow found its way into a world that didn’t want him. A world that had no use for him
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Series: Their Eyes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971211
Comments: 10
Kudos: 149





	Their Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so basically this is kind of hopping between the comics, the tv show Titans, and Under The Red Hood. I only really used the comics for Jason and Bruce’s meeting, I used the Titans for most of the story, then since Jason hasn’t died (yet) on Titans, I used his death in Under the Red Hood. Keep in mind that this story does involve suicide since that topic was heavily included for one of the Titans episodes and for those that didn’t see the Major Character Death tag, this story is about Jason and, while I did briefly think about it, I thought it would be better to include Jason’s death in the end. So if you don’t like reading about how he died, this story isn’t for you.  
> Anyways, enjoy the story and I’m sorry if this isn’t that good 🙃

The world always seemed to hate Jason Peter Todd.

He was never supposed to happen. He was an accident that somehow found its way into a world that didn’t want him. A world that had no use for him.

That’s what his father always told him.

His father. A man that could never look past his bitterness and look at what was right in front of him. Jason didn’t remember much about the man, as he got older he remembered less and less of him, but he always remembered that one little detail. And his eyes. Always his eyes.

The eyes that were always somewhere hidden in the back of Jason’s mind, and just when he’d think he’d forgotten the cold look in those eyes, they would resurface, and leave Jason haunted for weeks.

His father's eyes were the main picture of Jason’s childhood, before the age of six that is. 

In Jason’s younger years he could easily picture the fierce look in his eyes as he smacked Jason across the face for taking one of his beers and hiding it. His fathers eyes weren’t nice, and weren’t anywhere near kind. They were cruel and unforgiving. 

Jason’s father left him and his mother when he was only six years old, so of course Jason didn’t remember much about the man. It was just a shame that only thing he remembered about him were the bad parts.

Jason’s mother would always remind Jason that his father wasn’t a bad man. He simply had a lot of stuff to do and it just eventually got too much for him. That he and his mother were too much of a burden to be around.

As Jason got older he began to understand that what his mother had told him wasn’t true. That she was simply angry with herself that her husband had left her and instead of accepting the fact that her husband was truly not a good man, she decided to blame Jason and herself.

But that didn’t make the difference, as when she was uttering those words, Jason was merely a young child who believed everything his mother said. His mother hadn’t led him down the wrong path one (lies) so he saw no reason to believe that she had been wrong about this.

Unlike the scarce memories Jason had of his father, he had many memories with his mother. Some good, some bad, just like any child.

His mother, besides the occasional outbursts blaming Jason for his father leaving, was a fairly nice lady. She rarely hit him and never locked him in the closet, one thing that many children told him their parents did. She paid for Jason’s food and clothes, something that not many adults in the neighborhood did for their children. So l, for that, Jason was very grateful. 

The occasional slaps she gave Jason were of course his fault. He would snap back at her when he knew she wasn’t in a good head space. It was his fault. That’s what Jason always told himself.

His mother’s eyes were nice. Not kind. Not sweet. Not loving. Just nice.

Before Jason’s father left they had been illuminated with light and never seemed dull. Jason doesn’t understand why though. His father was never kind to Jason. He supposed that maybe his father was a different man to his mother.

After his father left, her eyes became dull and plain. Her eyes were like the color of the ocean on a day that was filled with rain and gloom. Like those days at the beach, they would seem to light up for a few moments, then it seemed they would remember that it was stormy and go back to the plainness.

Jason was ten when his mother got sick. It was a simple cold, nothing big. Nothing life threatening. At least, that’s what Jasons neighbors would say. 

Jason had to get a job at one of the bodegas that were nearby in order to pay for his mother’s medicine (it’s just a small cold). He was only paid $5 an hour (“how much money does a child really need?”), not nearly enough to pay for his mother’s medicine. He managed to spread out the times his mother needed to take the medicine in order to have enough to get to the end of the month.

It was Jason’s eleventh birthday when he woke up to the sound of his mother’s quiet, weak cough. Nothing unusual. It had been that way for the past three months. 

Jason went about that day the same way he usually would. He spent two hours at the bodega, earning a full ten dollars, plus another five dollars that an old lady had given him. She told him to go and buy something nice for himself, and Jason had simply smiled at her and told her he would. He knew though, that he would not be spending the money on him.

He raced home, nevertheless, excited to show his mother the fifteen dollars he had earned that day.

When he entered the apartment he was met with an eerie silence that seemed to scream at him to get out. Jason, however, never was good at following instructions.

She was laying in her bed, deathly pale, her eyes wide open, her hand hand near her mouth, and blood on said hand.

He should’ve cried. Should’ve run to his mother and begged her to get up. That’s at least what the kids did in the movies when they lost their parents. But Jason was shockingly frozen in time.

He didn’t know what to do. His mother was laying, dead in her own bed. It was just a cold. His neighbors had promised him it was just a cold. It wasn’t just a cold.

Jason felt more scared than sad. What if when he called the cops they would think it was his fault for not taking her to the doctor? What if they put him in the foster system? 

No, Jason thought to himself. Not if. He would most definitely go into the foster system.

Jason had heard horror stories of the system. Kids had been taken in simply for the money and the punishments some of them got gave Jason nightmares, simply from listening to them. 

So, Jason did what any reasonable person would do. He ran away. He left his mother’s cold, rotting body in their tiny crumbling apartment. Her eyes were still wide open, seeming to be watching Jason with disappointment one last time as he ran out the door.

Her body wasn’t discovered until one month later, when Jason’s neighbors came over to ask for a pot. The police came and asked questions, and when they asked if she had any relatives, nobody bothered to mention the small, snarky boy that had once occupied apartment 777 with his not loving, not kind, not sweet, but nice, mother.

By some miracle, Jason managed to survive on his own until he was fifteen years old. Don’t ask him how he did it, because he really couldn’t tell you, even if he wanted to.

He stopped working at bodega after his mom died in fear that CPS would find out about him and look for him at his job. He had no clue that none of his neighbors never mentioned his name to the police, so he was constantly hiding in dear and the first two years on the streets Jason did his best to avoid cops.

Eventually though, he did get picked up by one, and much to his shock and delight, the cop had no idea who he was. After that Jason began to stop caring as much. As long as they never looked further into his mother’s life, he would be fine.

Jason mainly got his food from a homeless shelter that was on the other side of Gotham, far away from anybody who might’ve known him before the tragedy.

He managed to sneak some treats from a nearby bakery on special occasions and hung out with the boys of his new neighborhood. He spent most of the time with the boys playing games like “tag” and “who can outrun the cops the fastest?” 

Jason wasn’t a huge fun of that last one, but he didn’t mind doing it as long as it made his new friends happy.

One cold September night, Jason was by himself, something that didn’t happen very often as he was usually occupied by at least one of his friends.

He had been having a particularly hard week. The homeless shelter he got his food from was full, so he couldn’t get in, and he couldn’t seem to borrow enough money from passerbyers to pay for at least one meal.

His friends all were in the shelter by now. Jason didn’t know why they had been let in and he hadn’t. He didn’t do anything bad that week. At least, not anything worse than usual.

He was trying to find a place that would block him from the harsh winds of the fall weather when he saw it. The fucking batmobile. Parked, seemingly unguarded, in the alleyway across from him.

Jason let a small smirk make its way across his face. He glanced around and found a wrench sitting on the street. 

He made his way to the car and managed to get the first tire off. Then the second. Then the third.

“Oh, this is gonna be me good, ain’t it?” Jason said to himself quietly.

Jason wasn’t exactly sure if what happened that night was the best thing to ever happen to him, or the worst. To this day, he still doesn’t know.

If you would ask him if he enjoyed what happened in the next year, he would say “of course!” But it’s what came after that year that made Jason really question if it was worth it.

Batman found Jason in the middle of stealing the final tire of the batmobile. They both froze and stared at each other for what felt like to Jason, a million years.

Jason wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to do with Batman looking directly at him. Was he supposed to try and fight? A fight that he would most surely lose? Was he supposed to turn and run? He could probably get at least a couple blocks without Batman catching him, but he would eventually catch up.

The Batman stared at him, his eyes giving off a sort of look that seemed to say that he could hear Jason’s every thought, before finally saying, “you do realize that’s the batmobile, right?”

Jason swallowed the fear vomit that had been making its way up his through, “you do realize this is Crime Alley, right?”

In the corner of Jason’s eye he could spot a wrench that he had previously been using to get the tires off. Slowly, Jason moved his body towards the wrench. By the time Batman realized what Jason was doing, the wrench was already in his hand and making its way towards Batman’s stomach.

“You little son of a—” the Batman said, and Jason took off running, trying to stomach his growing fear and not let it show.

“Try and catch me, you big boob!” Jason yelled as he turned the corner.

Jason ran faster than he ever did before on that cold September night, but not even a fast kid like himself could outrun the Batman.

Batman caught up to Jason, like he thought would happen, 4 blocks down the road.

Jason braced himself the inevitable punch that the Batman would most definitely give him. He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. So much for getting that money.

But then, the impossible seemed to happen. The Batman, Batman himself, laughed. Like, actually laughed.

It might not have been a good old jolly laugh, but it was a laugh from Batman, something nobody had ever heard before.

That night, Batman bought Jason a burger. An entire burger! For stealing his tires! A thought occurred to Jason that maybe he should steal peoples tires more often.

While eating, Jason told Batman everything about himself, which looking back on it, probably wasn’t the best decision, but Jason was hungry and this dude was paying.

He wasn’t exactly sure what happened next, all Jason knew was one minute he was eating burgers with Batman, and the next he was in the Batcave.

The rest of that night was a blur. Jason found out that Batman was Bruce Wayne, a billionaire in Gotham. A stupid billionaire in Gotham. Well, at least, Jason used to think he was stupid. Now he knew it was all an act. Batma— Bruce offered Jason a place to stay with him, so Jason accepted, and it seemed like for the first time in his life, everything was gonna be okay.

Bruce made Jason the new Robin, much to Jason’s delight, and enrolled him in Gotham Academy. Jason too sure how he felt about the rich kid school, but it was better than learning from the twenty year old that had been teaching Jason math in Crime Alley.

Every night Jason would join Bruce in fighting the criminals of Gotham, and if you asked him, he would tell you he did a pretty good job at it.

Jason met Dick Grayson, the first Robin, six months into being Robin. Dick wasn’t the biggest fan of Jason at first, that was for sure, but Jason felt like as time went on, the two actually managed to become less like teammates and more like brothers.

Jason, of course, could understand why Dick wasn’t too fond of him when they first met.

It was under solemn circumstances, as Jason had to deliver the news to Dick that his family, because that's what a circus, was being murdered, one by one. Not to mention that Dick hadn’t even known Bruce had replaced him until Jason had showed and saved Dick.

But like it was mentioned, Dick eventually warmed up to Jason and eventually saw him as his brother.

A few months after meeting Dick, Jason was sent to train with Titans. At first, Jason felt betrayed and hurt.

He hadn’t thought Bruce of all people would want to get rid of him. Because that’s what Bruce was doing. Getting rid of him. He was bitter about being sent away, but tried not to let it show how hurt he was. Instead, he put up his usual guarded demeanor and tried to act like he was the best, because that’s the only why Bruce would see that he was good enough. That was the only way Dick would finally realize Jason was more than some street kid that billionaire Bruce Wayne found.

Jason knew none of the other Titans liked him. He acted too cocky and was constantly trying to show off. Jason tried to act like he was the smartest on the team and like he could easily take down any bad guys that got in his way. He knew he couldn’t, and so did the Titans, but Jason refused to let any of them know that he knew this.

However, he never realized just how badly he could be beaten until he and Gar snuck off one night to try and find Dr. Light. Only Dr. Light though, nothing else was supposed to happen. Jason only wanted to prove to Dick that he was ready to go back to Gotham and that he wasn’t just some sad lonely kid. 

Jason and Gar decided to split up (Jason forced them to split up) and they went in opposite directions. Jason supposed that he should’ve listened to Gar when he told them they should stick together, but the teen was too desperate to prove himself.

Dr. Light kidnapped Jason and gave him over to Deathstroke, a man who had been after the Titans for as long as Jason had been Robin. Even longer in fact.

Jason tried to block out most of what happened when he was with Deathstroke.

He vaguely remembered a call happening between Deathstroke and some of the Titans. They sounded angry, and Jason couldn’t help but shudder. He knew he would be punished for sneaking out to take down Dr. Light. Especially since he had been foolish enough to bring Gar with him.

All he felt when he was with Deathstroke was pain, and that was only when he was conscious. He never mentioned to Dick later on because he had been ashamed, as if he could’ve controlled it, but Jason had actually been passed out most the time he spent with Deathstroke. The pain had become unbearable and Jason saw no other way to escape it other than to just sleep.

Time seemed to speed by in those next few hours. Kori and Dick showed up and fought Deathstroke. They gave it their all, but in the end, Jason was left falling. He fell towards the ground and in that moment he truly thought he was going to die. He had never felt more scared than in that moment.

Miraculously, Jason somehow felt his feet touch the ground and he was grateful that he had somehow been saved. A boy had come out of nowhere and caught Jason, saving his life. There was no time to celebrate, because in that moment of peace, the boy that had saved Jason’s life was shot, and Jason felt like he was falling all over again.

Falling, falling, falling. That was the only feeling Jason felt the next three days. When he went to sleep, he was falling in his dreams. When he was awake, he was always looking out the window and falling. When Jason managed to snap out of his falling trance, he was only yelled at for things he couldn’t have possibly done. Right?

“How fucked up are you?” That was the first thing Rachel had said to Jason after now seeing him outside of his room for three days. Even now, he was still in his room. Still falling. “All you do is give people reasons to hate you!”

Jason felt a stab in his heart. She was right. He was nothing but a replacement he was overstepping his boundaries in a place that he didn’t belong in. He still didn’t know what had brought this on though. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said hazily.

“The crosses on my mirror!” Rachel said, as if that would explain everything. As if Jason was supposed to know what the hell she was talking about. It was ridiculous.

“I still don’t know what the fuck you’re talking—” Jason started to say, for the first time in days seeming to snap out of his dream like trance. No. Not a dream. A Nightmare.

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” Rachel said angrily, pushing Jason with more force than he had been expecting.

“I’m sick of this shit,” Jason said quickly. His voice was breaking and he knew he was about to cry. And throughout all of this, he was still falling. He left his room and he could hear Rachel following angrily behind, cussing him out with every step he took.

“Don’t fucking walk away from me!” She screamed at him.

“Whoa!” Dawn said as Jason entered the main area of Titans tower. She could see the anger and tension building up between the two teens. “Hey, what’s happening here?”

“Jason drew crucifixes all over my mirror!” Rachel exclaimed, the anger still in her eyes. 

“Bullshit!” Jason said, his voice cracking. He wasn’t a bad person. He could be little shit sometimes, but he wouldn’t do that. Not to Rachel. “I didn’t do shit, okay? Don’t blame me for her voodoo issues.”

Jason didn’t mean to say it. Not like that. He knew Rachel’s problems were serious and they weren’t just some dumb issues such as he had just said. Had he actually been the one to draw the crosses on her mirror, he would’ve seen the reason she had to be mad at him, but at the moment, Jason didn’t think she had any proof it was him. If anything she was just blaming him because it was easiest to put the blame on.

“What’s all the drama about?” Donna asked them as she walked into the kitchen area. 

“Somebody drew crucifixes on Rachel’s mirror and she thinks Jason did it,” Dawn told her former teammate.

“I know he did it,” Rachel cut in. Jason nearly rolled his eyes. Okay. Whatever. Rachel could blame him all she wanted. He was done with this shit. He didn’t need to be here. Nobody actually even wanted him here.

“Cute idea with the bourbon bottle,” Hank spoke up. He had previously been observing quietly in the kitchen and his sudden wanting to speak up confused Jason. “I’m more of a sour mash guy.” Oh. Now Jason understood. Something had happened to Hank as well and he was pinning the blame on Jason. It stung, but it wasn’t unexpected. “Ever go in my room and pull that shit again and I’ll forget which team you’re on.” 

Jason felt his breathing pick up. He didn’t do this. He didn’t do any of this. He glanced at Dawn. She seemed to be the most rational one out of all of them. The one that gave Jason the safest, most secure feeling when Dick wasn’t around. She gave him a motherly feeling that Jason never got from his own mother. Surely she, out of all them, would believe him.

But when their eyes finally met, the only words she muttered were, “why Jason?”

Jason’s heart dropped. This couldn’t seriously be happening. They were supposed to be his teammates. The people that believed him! Trusted him! “I don’t know what happened guys, but I didn’t do it.” Jason said, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice. He couldn’t do this. Not now. He was still falling. Why was he still falling?

“What about the picture of Ellis?” Dawn spoke in her usual soft tone.

“The orange soda bottle?” Donna said, in a much more accusing tone than Dawn had used, but not with enough force as and spite as Rachel and Hank had used.

“He did it to you guys too?” Rachel said disbelievingly.

Where was Dick? Why wasn’t Dick here? Dick should be here and sticking up Jason, because at least Jason knew for a fact that Dick of all people would believe him. Or would he? Dick had made it very clear when they first met that he wasn’t too fond of Jason. What if he was only pretending to like Jason now and would use this as an excuse to get rid of the teen?

“Fuck this,” Jason muttered. Fuck all of this. Fuck all the blaming. Fuck the being sent away. Fuck the losing everyone and everything Jason cared about. 

“Hey, we’re not done here, kid,” Hank raised his voice as Jason made his way out of the room. 

“You people are insane!” Jason broke. “I’d rather be with Deathstroke than you assholes!”

Jason thought that at least might have struck a nerve. Hoped it did. He thought he saw a moment of pity in Kori’s eyes, but thought he was just hallucinating. It’s all he had been doing the past three days. Why would there be any reason for him to believe that he wasn’t still seeing things. 

“You think everything’s my fault,” Jason finally said right before the elevator bell rang, and everybody’s accusing eyes left Jason and looked at who was entering.

Jason couldn’t find himself to be bothered to care anymore though, and he took this as his chance to leave. Leave everything. He could do it. He would do it. Nobody would care. Not Bruce. Not Dick. Especially not the Titans.

He was fast. Jason didn’t know how somebody that was barely aware of their surroundings could move so fast, but he didn’t care. A cool breeze hit him as he shoved the door open, much like the breeze that had been surrounding him the night Bruce found him. 

All he had to do was take a few steps and it would all be over with. No more falling. No more pain. No more—

“Jason?” 

“I keep falling.” Jason said as bluntly as he could. He didn’t want to be overly emotional. ‘Real men don’t show emotion.’ That was his father's catchphrase. He wanted to please his father. He had to please his father. If he please his father now, then maybe when he saw him again he would be so disappointed.

“You’re okay,” Dicks voice rang in Jason’s ears and every bone in his body was screaming at him to jump. To not stick around for whatever Dick had to say, because Jason knew if he did that, then he wouldn’t jump and he would have to see all their faces again. 

“No.” Jason said. It was true. He wasn’t okay and he hadn’t been for a long time. Since— since his mother died. Jason knew that his brokenness had started long before he met any of the Titans or Bruce, and it was unfair of him to blame them for everything.

“Listen—” Dick started to say and Jason could tell he was getting closer. But he couldn’t let him do that. He couldn’t let Dick get hurt by being around him.

“Bruce wasn’t the first one to try and help me, ya know?” Jason said quietly, and he was breaking his facade. His father would be so disappointed. “I can make a list. “Teachers. Cops. You. Nobody’s been up to the task, Dick.”

Jason was trying to get Dick to understand. To try and see why he had to do this. That what he was doing was for the greater because, well because Jason was like a—

“I gotta poison in me,” Jason said, finally finding the right words. “Shit spreads. It can infect even the healthiest people.”

“Why don’t you just step away?” Dicks voice was calm. That’s what Bruce had trained them to sound like in situations like this. Jason never thought he’d be on the receiving end of that voice, but here he is. 

“No,” Jason persisted. He had to do this. He felt it was the only way to make everything right, and by the time anybody noticed anything was wrong, he was already on the ledge.

“Step away from the ledge, Jason,” Dick pleaded. “We can just sit up here quietly, together.”

Jason looked down and realized just how close to stepping off the ledge he was. One mishap and it would all end. And that was what he wanted. Wasn’t it?

“I fucked it all up coming here,” Jason admitted. “You know, it’s all happened before. I spent two night in juice and four fucking people died.” It was true. Jason had been caught taking a woman’s wallet and his friends ditched him at the scene. The cops took him to juvie and in the span of those two nights there were five fights and four people died. Jason escaped before the third night happened. He didn’t want to know what would’ve happened had he stayed. “It follows me like a curse.”

“Nothing’s following you.” Dick was using logic because that’s what he did. He used logic. He fought based on logic whenever he could. But Jason based all his fighting on feelings and emotions, and that’s why Jason will never be as good as Dick.

“I’m the reason they all hate each other. The reason that kid got shot.” The kid that had saved him. “The reason this place won’t work.” Jason took a deep breath and the air entered his body refreshingly. It felt nice. So wonderfully nice. Jason wondered if he could still feel this air after death. He hoped so. “But I can fix it. Remove the poison.” 

Jason took one foot off the ledge. He could do this, and if he couldn’t, then he would stay up here until he could. He wouldn’t poison the rest of the team anymore than he already had.

“Jason wait,” Dick called out. He had almost been too late. Had he waited one more second, he would’ve been too late. “Can I tell you something? Something I’ve never told anybody before.”

Dick killed Deathstroke’s son. That’s what the former Robin told him on that day on the roof of Titans tower. At first, Jason didn’t believe it. He didn’t want to. He had been ready to jump off a roof because he thought that this was all his fault, and now he knows that Deathstroke was after them because of Dick. Because of what Dick had done.

Jason left soon after that. He couldn’t stand to be around all the betrayal that was happening around him. Rose, who Jason actually thought cared about him, ended up being the one that had planted everything the Titans blamed him for.

He went back to Gotham and joined Bruce once again in fighting against the crime in the streets. It felt good. It felt like he was home. Jason knew that Bruce would never betray him. Never hurt him, such as Rose and Dick. 

Jason trusted Bruce with his life, and maybe, just maybe, that had been a mistake, because two months after Jason rejoined Bruce, he found himself captured again.

He wanted to believe that this would be like Deathstroke, that there would be a change of his rescue. Jason wanted to think that the only harm that would be done to him would be a few cuts, and maybe falling off somewhere high, because Jason had Bruce now. With Bruce, Jason believed he would be able to get over it in a day. Oh the innocence.

It was the Joker that had captured Jason this time. A man with no morals and no sympathy. He would kill an entire family just for the giggles, and Jason couldn’t see a reason why the Joker wouldn’t do the same for him.

Who knew a crowbar could hurt you so much? Jason certainly didn’t. He learned quickly that it was much more painful than it seemed to be.

The Joker beat him day and night with that crowbar, constantly asking Jason which way was more painful for him. Jason responded the first few times the Joker asked him, but eventually he even found the mere task of opening his mouth much too painful. Speaking was another thing altogether.

“Wow, that looked like it really hurt,” the Joker would say, a twisted smile on his face, then he would hit Jason at a new angle with even more force. “Woah, now hang on. That looked like it hurt a lot more!”

Jason had never been religious. He had never felt like there was some higher power out there that was judging Jason’s every move. Other than Bruce, of course. But in that moment, he was only sixteen years old and he was holding on to something, just one thing, that would give him hope that Bruce would get there in time, so the young bird prayed. He felt ridiculous doing it, but if it actually worked Jason might just have to think about attending church every now and then.

He never ended attending church after all. 

“Let’s try and clear this up Pumpkin,” the Joker said, using a most unusual nickname for Jason. He decided at that moment that he hated pumpkins. “What hurts more? A? Or B?” The Joker struck Jason with a crowbar two times. “Forehand? Or Backhand.”

The Joker's laugh was one of piercing screeches and nails against a chalkboard. Jason had never heard a laugh more terrifying and insane as the Jokers.

Jason let out a loud scream, something he didn’t think he was still able to do. He was scared. Even more scared than he had been when dangling off the roof, the only thing holding him was Dicks hand. He was even more scared then when his mother died and Jason thought he would go into foster care.

“A little louder, lamb chop,” the Jokers cackle echoed throughout the empty warehouse. “I think you may have a collapsed lung! That always impedes the oratory.”

Jason knew his lung had collapsed long before the Joker had pointed it out. He had been having trouble breathing for a good hour now and felt an intense pressure in his chest. 

The logical part of Jason knew that oxygen was all around him. It was one of the first things taught in school, and even Jason, who was raised in the streets, knew this. The child in Jason was wondering where all the air had gone and why it wasn’t entering his body like it was supposed. He wondered if the air had just all of a sudden decided not to go into his body. 

The other part felt rage. Yes, he was terrified, but he was also angry that the Joker had even dared to kidnap Batman’s newest Robin. Did he not know who Jason was? Who exactly he was dealing with? Maybe a part of Jason’s anger was directed towards Bruce and the fact that he hadn’t arrived yet.

It didn’t matter where the anger was directed at the most though, because at the moment, the Joker was the only one in Jason’s field of vision. So he did what any hurt, kidnapped teenager would do. He spit in his face.

“Now that was rude,” the Joker muttered disappointedly. “The first boy blunder had some manners.”

Jason wasn’t Dick though. He wasn’t the little golden boy that lost his parents in a tragic accident at the circus. Jason didn’t spend most of his childhood surrounded by loving parents or friends. Jason’s old friends had done nothing but get him into trouble and when Jason became Robin, he never noticed any sign that they might be worried about where he had gone. And believe him and he said he looked.

The Joker gave the boy a small frown, but through Jason’s blurry vision, he could barely even see it. “I suppose I’m going to have to teach you a lesson so you can better follow in his footsteps,” a deafening silence overtook the warehouse for a split second and it was music to Jason’s ears. “Nah, I’m just going to keep beating you with this crowbar.” 

Forehand. Backhand. Forehand. Backhand. Jason heard his right foot snap and took in a small gasp of air that finally seemed to make its way back to Jason.

“Where is the detective?” The Joker questioned the boy, who was now laying pitifully on the cold floor. His face was bloody and with every second that passed, Jason found himself praying harder and harder for a God he didn’t believe in, to for once, listen to him.

In the next few minutes Jason decided that a forehand hit with the crowbar was much more painful than the backhand. The Joker was able to use a handful of more force, and as a result, it was much more painful for him.

Jason knew the Joker was done with him when he began to slow the force of the hits and focused more on his watch, “okay, kiddo, I gotta go.”

Jason let out a breath of relief when he said this, thinking he might actually have a chance of getting out now. That, as long as the Joker wouldn’t give Jason any more injuries, Bruce would arrive in time and take him to the cave, as he had done a hundred times before, and put him on bed rest for the next few months. Maybe even a therapist. 

Jason almost laughed at the thought of Bruce getting Jason a therapist. The idea was absurd. The old man didn’t even go to a therapist when he was ten and had just seen his parents killed. Jason doubted he would get one for as small a thing as being beaten by the Joker.

“It’s been fun though, right? Well, maybe just a smidge more fun for me than you,” the Joker gave his infamous grin. “I’m just guessing since you’ve been awfully quiet.”

The Joker was right. Jason had been quiet, and he absolutely hated it. He hadn’t been this quiet since his father left and he was trying to give his mother some space. Be a good son. It had been engrained in Jason since the moment his mother died that he would never be that quiet again. It wasn’t him and Jason didn’t want to be anybody that wasn’t fully himself.

Kind of ironic, seen as Jason literally became a replacement for a man that didn’t want to be replaced. He took the suit of a man that had had that suit made just for him. Nobody else was supposed to wear it. At least, until Jason came along.

“Anyway, be a good boy. Finish your homework and be in bed by 9,” the Joker said, his eyes lit with amusement. But not the same amusement that Bruce had in his eyes when Jason stole his tires. This amusement was more of an evil one that gave Jason the terrifying though that something else would happen. Something that Bruce wouldn’t be able to stop. But that was ridiculous, right? Bruce would save him. “And, hey,” the Joker said as he reached the large metal door that Jason hoped would lead to his escape. “Tell the big man I said hello.”

Jason waited a few seconds to be sure the Joker had left and that this wasn’t another one of his tricks. He had a shuddering thought of when he tried to escape his first day in the warehouse because he thought the Joker had left him alone. And who knows, maybe those few seconds of hesitation might’ve caused his death. Maybe if he had a few seconds longer, he would’ve found another way out.

Jason managed to roll onto his feet, very painfully, and stumbled a good foot or two before collapsing on his broken foot. He could see blood splatter around him as he fell and took that as yet another sign that his chances of living were slim. Yet, he still tried to ignore that fact.

It was not until Jason found the door locked and heard the loud beeping noise that the facts finally began to settle into his mind. It was not until Jason looked around and found a bomb placed on a crate seemingly unbothered, that only had ten seconds left before destruction, that Jason finally accepting he wouldn’t make it out of this one. That Bruce, who for the past year had seemed to be his knight in shining armor, cut out the romance part, would not come to save him. Not this time at least. 

Jason could remember Dicks eyes. Dicks not mean, not harsh, not cruel, but loving eyes. Dicks eyes that somehow managed to talk Jason down from a ledge that he was barely aware he was even on until he was already there. His brotherly eyes that, yes, definitely got them into trouble on some occasions, but they were the most comforting eyes Jason had seen in a long time.

Jason remembered the Titans eyes. The eyes that were not kind, not sweet, not nice, but accusing. He remembered the way they looked as they accused Jason of doing things while he was still in a state of partial shock. But Jason also remembered the look in their eyes as Dick walked back downstairs, Jason in tow, as they realized what they had nearly caused to happen. He remembered their eyes going from disgust and accusation to sympathy and sorrow, and finally made their way to the look of trust.

Jason remembered Bruce’s eyes. His not innocent, not overbearing, not mean, but fatherly eyes. The eyes that had first given Jason a chance to change his life for the better. The eyes that looked at him in amusement as Jason ran from attempting to steal his tires. The eyes that had picked Jason up all those times he had fallen as Robin when he was in Gotham. 

Jason could vividly remember the Joker's eyes. The Joker's cruel, insane, sadistic eyes that gleamed with joy as he beat Jason with a crowbar in that warehouse. He could vividly remember the look in the Joker's eyes as he made one last turn to look at Jason, beaten and alone on the cold hard floor, and as he left him there to die. But the Joker's eyes wouldn’t be the only thing Jason could remember. He could remember the grin on the Jokers face. It was just as evil and malicious as his eyes were. 

While Jason will never truly get to remember what his own eyes looked like on that fateful night, fate will always have the feeling engraved into him. The feeling of not hope, not love, not trust, but defeat. Because, you see, Jason will always remember that feeling of defeat as his pair of blue eyes finally seemed to turn into that shade of ocean gray. The same stormy ocean gray eyes his own mother had seemed to wear not that long ago. He will always remember the way anger and sorrow seemed to combine into each other as he set his once bright blue eyes on a bomb that would, in the end, seal his fate. And, Jason will always remember that feeling of peace that seemed to wash over him in a matter of seconds. He would often wonder if his eyes had seemed as peaceful as he had felt in that moment.

Jason Peter Todd died on April 27, alone in a warehouse. The last thing that he heard was the loud beeping, and even after death, Jason would hear the Joker’s cruel laugh and that taunting beeping for the rest of time in the afterlife.

He was never supposed to happen. Jason was nothing but an accident that somehow made its way into a world that’s only purpose for him was to use him for its amusement. For it to kick him around and laugh whenever Jason was knocked down again.

Jason died not knowing that Bruce had only been right outside the warehouse. He died not knowing that he could’ve been saved. That he almost had been saved. But maybe that was for the best. It’s best not to dwell on what could’ve been, and to instead face the facts of what had happened.

Bruce never did see Jason’s eyes filled with peace, such as Jason had imagined them to look like in his time of death. He instead found Jason underneath a pile of rubble, with what appeared to be a tear mark going down his face. 

Six months after Jason’s untimely death, on Friday, October 13, Jason opened his eyes to a world that believed he was dead.

The world has always hated Jason Todd.


End file.
